


Style.

by ToWriteFanfictionOnHerLaptop



Series: Little Valdangelo Things [4]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, Song fic, car crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToWriteFanfictionOnHerLaptop/pseuds/ToWriteFanfictionOnHerLaptop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico and Leo go on a drive. Inspired by 'Style' By Taylor Swift.<br/>'We never go out of style'<br/>Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Style.

Leo P.O.V

I picked him up as the sky had just begun to turn to an inky twilight and the stars that he so often loved had ignited the sky. Still, even when he was happiest, he refused to talk. He sat there staring out the window. This was out communication now. I drove with him at night and he sat there listening while I blabbered on about life and recited speeches I had been practicing for days. Every once in a while, I tried to hold that deathly cold hand of his but he pulled it away as if my touch were acid or fire. It had been a while since we had last talked and time had grown heavy on me. Limbs ached and I found myself missing his company when he moved out. He asks me to take him home after about an hour but I know as well as he does that I won’t. He doesn’t want to either. He wants answers as well as I do.

He sat there with his hair illuminated by the streetlights. That light, too yellow, too artificial for his world that combed through his long black hair in a shock of amber. He was day dreaming, wishing he could be anywhere else but here where I was forcing him to come to terms with us, with whatever we were feeling. We were like a trend, coming and going but always there. We were background noise. We went crashing down but we managed to pick ourselves back up and come back like we always did. It seemed darker outside now as if I had to come to terms with it. We couldn’t come back from this. All those speeches, all the little touches to get him back were useless. It was the end but I wasn’t ready to let go.

“So, is it true?” He finally said, that sweet melody of a voice flowing into my ears.

 It was a relief to hear him speak. But not like this. What could I even say to him? His big brown eyes burrowed through my layers of not caring to find my regret, my grief, my complete and utter dependency of him. They possessed all of our memories. Those sunny days in the flecks of light amber and those dark times when we had regretted everything in those dark hues of black and brown that made me wonder if we were right for each other at all. Those rumour swirled in my head. I had heard things but so had he. What they said about me weren’t so much rumours but what of him?

“It’s true. But the entire time I was with him, I only thought about you. He was nothing like you. And I swear, It was only for a second and then I snapped out of it Nico.”

He sighed deep and longingly as if he were questioning everything.

“I’d been there too a few times. Still, it’s hard to believe you when you swore to me.”

It hit me, the longing for him. I wanted him to shout and to scream and to tell me how much he really hated me but we both knew that wouldn’t happen. I knew it because I knew him. I knew that under all those layers of hate and anger and distrust, he still had feeling for me. He had to. If he didn’t, we would never come back from shit like this. Then, his voice cut through the air again.

“Take me home Leo. Please just…take me home.”

He was pleading, too afraid to deal with it. The emotions, the rumours and me. For the first time, I was afraid. Afraid that this could be it. I knew it was. It had to be. But, If I had known for so long, then why was I dreading him saying his last goodbyes?

“Nico I-“

That’s when everything went in slow motion. At first, it was like I was being winded with my head thrown forwards and the soft fabric digging into my chest and stomach. My face then hit something else, the fabric smooth but the impact anything but soft. Then, my head was thrown back even more violently than before. My limbs in zero-gravity as the force of the car left me powerless. But Nico, he was never one to wear a seatbelt. He was hurled forwards by the force, his head smashing through the windscreen, leaving a circle of blood on the glass. His chest was rammed into the dashboard with such force that I was sure I heard a sickening crack of bones. He was flung back with such force, he was lifted off his seat, finally coming back down after hitting his head once more on the roof of the car.

“Nico.” I croaked after I had regained my breath. But there came no reply, only the sound of my heartbeat in my ear and laboured breathing.


End file.
